


Flesh Constrains, Iron Liberates

by d00mface



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Gen, in which aatrox sets himself on a path to become The Dragon to Mordekaiser's Big Bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:22:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25885783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/d00mface/pseuds/d00mface
Summary: The Iron Revenant has set his sights upon The Darkin Blade. There may be use for a decaying god-warrior yet.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25





	Flesh Constrains, Iron Liberates

Wings flexed and flared; Aatrox let out a defiant roar. A sword swung from overhead slammed into the army before him with a thunderclap. The inlaid heart of the blade pulsed, quickening; the blood of the slain drawn within it. Its wielder grew. No mere mortals were any match for this horned titan. 

Undeterred swathes of soldiers surged forward nonetheless; crashing into their enemy like a wave, yet falling to his blade all the same. Proudest warriors of their nation, conquerors, and men who had never seen defeat - cleaved through like swine. The motions of their foe were the mad swings of a butcher; inelegant and messy. 

“Come! Face me, mortals!” The monster roared between swings. “I am Aatrox! I am your end!” 

The once proud military force was little more than a bloody stain on an open field by the time dawn broke; fodder to fuel their killer’s future campaigns against all life. As a cold wind blew in from the north Aatrox retreated from the remains of his slaughter. All was quiet once more.

A chill ran down the darkin’s spine. Ignored. 

From somewhere beyond the veil that separated life and death a pair of blue-green eyes narrowed; observing. 

* * *

Shaking hands dipped into the lake, dead flesh falling from them. The cold water briefly turned red, murky, as the ichor from Aatrox’s decaying flesh sank. He drank from his cupped hands feverishly, quickly. It had been some time since he last remembered to drink. His throat burned. Curse this crude form and its mortal weakness.

Catching his reflection as the water cleared Aatrox was quick to turn away. The fire of his eyes dimmed as they narrowed. 

The sounds of the world beginning to awaken were like a fly buzzing too closely to one’s ear. The dull hum of life had become an annoyance. Pushing himself into a seated position Aatrox willed the noise to fade into the background.

His body ached. How long would this form last before it collapsed under his power?

Tattered wings upon Aatrox’s back stretched wide before relaxing. His eyes closed.

They snapped open just as quickly.

Aatrox’s hand moved to the grip of his sword, head whipping to the side. A voice. He had heard something. Some _one_.

Crimson eyes scanned the horizon; dying embers escaping his tired gaze. 

Whispering.

He was certain he had heard whispering. 

“ _You have earned my notice, World-ender_.”

The voice reverberated in his skull, a low rumble. Clear. Aatrox’s grip on his sword tightened. 

“Reveal yourself, cowardly whisperer!” Aatrox roared, challenging. A glimpse of something moving along the water drew the darkin’s gaze toward it. Eyes squinted, falling upon a distorted visage. A dark armored helm with a pair of lengthy horns protruding from its top. Malicious blue-green eyes stared back at Aatrox, glowing. The water rippled and the hazy image began to fade, dark laughter following in its wake. 

For a long moment Aatrox stared at where the armored helm had just been seconds before. Nothing new appeared in the lake. A gauntleted hand pressed to his head and he groaned. He was tired. This body was decaying. It was only natural that his mind would begin to go too. 

That was all. His mind playing tricks on him. 

* * *

The further north Aatrox traveled the more the cold gnawed at him. He wasn’t as susceptible to the chill as mortals might be, in fact he was able to ignore it for the most part, but the cold was always foreign to him. Though he had traveled Runeterra endlessly, especially in his years since his imprisonment, it was the sun and heat upon his back that would always be his home. 

The cold was a signifier of how he had been pushed from that home.

He trudged onward into the cold.

Grass gave way to snow and wind to flurries. Steam rose from his form, snow melting underfoot and in contact with his skin. Muddy puddles were left in his wake. One born in the fires of the sun could never tread upon a place like this without the land itself seeming to cry. Heat radiated from him in waves as icicles on frozen trees melted into nothingness as he passed them.

At last Aatrox found what he had been searching for.

A cluster of wooden homes, chimneys puffing smoke, light pouring outside from within them. He breathed in. He could sense a good number of souls in this village. Hearty men and women built to survive the cold. Their flesh would serve him well.

As Aatrox began his advance on the icy village dark laughter once more clouded his thoughts. This time he elected to ignore it until the whispering began anew. 

_“I promise freedom.”_

A growl rumbled from deep within Aatrox’s throat. Sword clutched tightly, his narrowed eyes sought out the source of the voice. This time it sounded more real; tangible. Not a hallucination. Not a product of his rotting mind.

“Who dares address me from the shadows!?” Aatrox’s perpetual frown had etched itself more deeply into his features. Teeth were bared like he was a wild animal.

An armored helm appeared in one of the murky puddles at Aatrox’s feet. The darkin recognized it as the horned one from the lake a handful of days before.

_“You may call me Mordekaiser, your lord; the almsgiver of your freedom.”_

A pair of teal eyes alight with soul fire narrowed from within the helm; seeming to stare straight through Aatrox’s own mind.

“Speak plainly, whisperer.” The darkin growled.

_“You walk a path of destruction in search of a freedom you feel is only attainable by ending the world. I offer an alternative in return for your service and loyalty.”_ The muddy puddle rippled as Mordekaiser raised an armored hand; within which souls writhed and screamed. Closing his fist and opening it once more the souls formed into a dagger; teal mist billowing forth from it. Again Mordekaiser closed his fist and again he opened it - the souls were free to howl impotently once more.

_“My mastery over the souls of others is no hyperbole. This could be my gift to you.”_

Aatrox could not deny the truth of what the strange spectre was showing to him; although he tried to hide any emotion that may have crossed his features in reaction to it.

“What ‘service’ do you require from a god-killer?” 

_“Continue on as you were,_ god-killer _. The death you leave in your wake is of use to me. While you have need of the flesh and blood of those you slay I have need of their souls. Send them to me and when I reemerge into the land of the living once more you shall be rewarded with freedom only I can grant.”_

Mordekaiser’s words hung in the air for a moment as Aatrox considered his offer.

“How am I meant to send these souls to your domain?”

A dark chuckle radiated from Mordekaiser. “ _Accept my offer and I will teach you all you need to know.”_ He stretched a hand toward Aatrox though of course it could not breach the surface of the puddle. _“Your freedom is closer than ever. The choice, of course, is yours.”_

Again Aatrox paused. He could feel his flesh decaying; the sounds of miniscule sinews snapping, flesh sliding, bones cracking - the soft cacophony of his torturous existence. This was the closest he had gotten to a concrete path toward freedom in an eternity. Mordekaiser was not wrong. 

The deeds he would commit in search of that freedom seemed to grow ever darker. Now it was not simply murder, but sending their souls to a dark spirit or demon in a realm of death. Potentially damning them.

Aatrox’s hand stretched down toward Mordekaiser’s; he immediately felt foolish as he realized he would only get his hand wet rather than shake the armored hand stretched toward him.

“I accept your deal.” Aatrox spoke at last. There was a tiredness in his crimson gaze; one of acceptance or defeat.

“ _A wise choice_ .” Mordekaiser rumbled. _“Now listen closely. The incantation I need you to learn is in_ Ochnun _.”_

Aatrox got onto one knee and peered closer toward the puddle. Ready to listen and begin his quest toward freedom anew. 

The nearby village remained oblivious to the dark forces that would soon reach their home.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic basically serves as "set-up" for any future Mordekaiser/Aatrox fics I write! I wanted to at least give them some kind of basis of knowing each other before I smash them together and make them kiss or something! But also I just really like the idea of a team-up between these two and I'm interested in exploring it more even beyond just "shipping" fics. I hope you've enjoyed it as well!


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